


The Bet

by WebheadGa



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Anal Sex, M/M, Oral Sex, bet, she's all that - Freeform, wager
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-06
Updated: 2020-04-06
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:22:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23513074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WebheadGa/pseuds/WebheadGa
Summary: In the Garden Crowley makes a bet with Hastur and Ligur to tempt a certain angel.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Kudos: 21





	The Bet

The Bet

The large black serpent wrapped itself around the tree branch, satisfied with a job well done. “Well done Crawley” croaked a voice from the leaves. The snake didn’t bother to turn his head towards the voice, he already knew it would be the demon Hastur. 

“I thought sssssso yessssssssss.” Crawley hissed. 

“I wonder could you do it again? With someone more challenging?” Came the voice of Hastur’s constant companion Ligur.

Crawley turned his head back on the branch and saw the large toad and lizard sitting in the tree.   
“Yesssss I have an unblemished record for temptation 100 percent successssss rate.” Crawley retorted. Which was of course true, sure technically there had only been one temptation on the earth so far but that was beside the point. There had been one, he had made it and it was successful that was the facts that mattered.

“So,” the toad croaked at him “you wouldn’t mind a little friendly wager then?”

Crawley turned his yellow eyes to Hastur “Isssss that what we are? Friendly?”

“Well a wager anyway then?” Ligur answered.

“What’d you have in mind?” Crawley asked. 

The lizard spoke “The loser has to lick the walls of Hell.”

Crawley gagged, the walls of hell were covered in an unnatural grime and muck to create a general atmosphere of gloom and despair.   
“Who did you have in mind? The man? He’d be easy enough to tempt.”

The Toad and Lizard looked at each other then past Crawley, the serpent turned his head to follow their gaze to the wall surrounding the garden and to the blonde angel that stood upon it. “Oh Bugger!” 

Crawley moved through the underbrush of the Garden of Eden and towards the wall thinking of how to tempt the angel and how to prove to the other demons that he had succeeded, he was pretty sure he couldn’t reuse the fruit of knowledge again and doubted it was forbidden for angels to eat anyway. Then the idea came to him “His sword!” Of course! The angel, the guardian of the eastern gate, had been armed with a large flaming sword, if he could just tempt the angel into handing over that sword to him then the bet would be won. Crawley chuckled to himself at his own cleverness as he slithered up the wall and beside the blonde angel. “Well that went down like a lead balloon” he hissed.  
“What” replies the angel in a soft lyrical voice.

“I said,” Crawley began as he transformed from his serpent self into his demonic form “that went down like a lead balloon.” 

“Yes well.” The angel murmured on a bit all the while oblivious to Crawley’s wandering gaze.  
NOW WHERE IS THAT SWORD, Crawley asked himself DOES HE JUST SUMMON IT? IS IT HIDDEN UP HIS SLEEVE? SURELY HE DOESN’T HAVE IT SHOVED UP HIS “What happened to your big flaming sword? It was big and flaming as everything?” Well there’s nothing like the direct approach Crawley supposed.   
The angel darted his eyes downwards for a second just before responding “I gave it away.”  
YOU WHAT? Thought Crawley “You What?” Said Crawley his tongue catching up to his thoughts.  
The angel appeared distraught as he replied “I gave it away!” The Angel’s eyes pleaded with Crawley, for him to understand. “It’s cold outside the garden walls, and there’s all manner of dangerous creatures, and, and what’s more she is already pregnant.” 

Crawley smiled at the Angel, not his usual tempting demonic smile, no something more genuine and warm, OH THIS POOR IDIOT. HE’LL BE THE NEXT TO FALL MARK MY WORDS Crawley thought INDEPENDENT THINKING, SHE WON’T LIKE THAT. 

“I certainly hope I didn’t do the wrong thing.” The Angel pleaded to him.

Crawley couldn’t let this poor beautiful, BEAUTIFUL? creature suffer, “Nah I don’t think you’re capable of doing the wrong thing, being an angel and all.”

Relief washed over the angelic features. “Oh thank you.”

“Course,” Crawley decided that maybe he could let him suffer, just a little “mind you it would be funny. If I did the right thing and you did the wrong thing.

The Angel’s smile appeared and vanished quickly replaced by a look of abject horror. “No! That wouldn’t be funny at all!”

Crawley shrugged, “Alright suit yourself.” And with that he returned to his snake form and slithered away. 

As he slithered through the garden he heard the deep throaty laughter of his frienemy the toad. “That went well.” Croaked Hastur.

“I can’t wait to watch you lick that wall!” Ligur cackled beside him.

“I’ve not lost yet. Double or nothing, I get three shotsssssss.” Crawley replies.

Hastur and Ligur eyed each other and a millennia of partnership passed wordlessly between them, and they reached some form of agreement. “Alright,” Hastur said finally “you wanna lick the wall twice, that's your choice.” 

Over the next few centuries Crawley, now called Crowley, had learned a few things about earth and about the Angel. For one thing Crowley learned that riding horses was absolute bollocks and had as a result of this discovery sped up the invention of the horseless carriage, which the humans referred to as an automobile, by a few hundred years through some well placed demonic interventions. He also learned that he rather enjoyed the music that humanity made much more than the angelic caterwauling they were doing in heaven. One would think that a beast with three heads created for the sole purpose of singing praise to the almighty would be able to harmonize with itself better but that’s what you get when you create through means of drunken mad libs games and the eyeballs in the stomach likely interfered with the breathing technique. Third he was a big fan of alcohol and he could rely on humanity to do most of his work for him with little to no effort on his part, a theory he tested by taking a century long nap which resulted in a big promotion for the various wars the humans had gotten into during this time and a rather bad case of bedhead that took nearly a decade to fix. About the Angel he had learned that he was called Aziraphale the principality, he found humanity fascinating especially their food and he adored books. He also learned that the Angel was funny, sweet natured, trusting and absolutely beautiful in the sunlight and the starlight and Crowley begrudgingly admitted in all the other types of light as well.

Over time the two had come to an agreement of sorts, an arrangement where if their plans intersected one of them would perform the blessing and the temptation without them both having to travel to heaven knows where. So far the arrangement had worked out fine but Crowley was still stymied by how to tempt Aziraphale in a way that would win the bet, sure the Angel occasionally traveled about in his stead causing bits of demonic terror but he couldn’t count that as it was balanced out with the blessings he himself was busy doing at the same time. No, he would have to figure out something else, and he only had one shot left after that embarrassing debacle involving oysters and the fall of the Roman Empire. In fairness things were going well until after the fifth jug of wine and then all Crowley can remember is suggesting a BBQ and someone brandishing about a fiddle as Aziraphale helped guide the citizens to safety. It hardly seemed fair to count that one against him but Ligur and Hastur had shown up while he cursed away a hangover with a menu consisting of different areas of the wall they thought he should lick. After that Crowley became more careful of how the temptation would play out and had so far spent a large amount of time getting close to the Angel and becoming his FRIEND? Crowley thought on the word, IS THAT THE RIGHT WORD? FRIEND? Hardly seemed appropriate, all things considered. They were after all a demon and an angel natural enemies like dogs and cats or ducks and...well other birds. Still he couldn’t think of a better term. They certainly weren’t actually enemies and had grown far to close for the term acquaintance still Crowley found the idea of FRIEND to be rather odd. WELL, IT’LL HAVE TO DO AS A PLACE HOLDER. 

Aziraphale was waiting on the sidewalk outside his bookshop when the Bentley pulled up on the street. He had never quite got the hang of this automobile thing, but Crowley seemed to enjoy his so he was happy enough to ride along. The way Crowley drove he was certain wasn’t up to legal standards; still he must admit it was a good bit of fun, feeling the vehicle speed around turns lifting from the seat ever so slightly. They had scheduled a lunch together today and though he was supposed to think of him as “the adversary” Aziraphale did enjoy spending time with this particular demon. Looking about the cabin of the car his eye was taken by a cassette tape case, ah Strauss, Aziraphale smiled, he did so enjoy a waltz. He popped the cassette into the tape deck and though it was no Blue Danube, Aziraphale did rather enjoy the beautiful light piano intro before the strings came in rather abrasive in his ears and he listened as a beautiful voice rang out the lines;

“Spread your wings and fly away  
Fly away far away  
Spread your little wings and fly away  
Fly away far away  
Pull yourself together  
'Cause you know you should do better  
That's because you're a free man”

He looked over at Crowley who had an unmistakable smirk,”You do it on purpose don’t you?” He accused.

Crowley gasped at the accusation, “It’s nothing to do with me. It does it by itself.” 

So distracted by the conversation, Crowley forgot to maintain his inference on the traffic and had to maneuver quickly to keep them from smacking headfirst into a lorry. “Yeah and same goes double for your mother.” Crowley yelled out the window at the passing truck. He turned back to Aziraphale who was pressed against the seat beside him with Crowley’s arm stretched across him holding him in place. Crowley had not noticed himself doing this nor did he notice until now that Aziraphale was squeezing the hand on the end of that arm, tightly. They smiled at each other, awkwardly, and let go, Crowley returning both hands and eyes to the road as they sped on to their waiting table. 

Through their lunch they did not talk about what happened. They talked about the comings and goings of their respective offices, of their assignments, of the general state of things in the ethereal and infernal worlds as well as the new of the human realm. Crowley thought this upcoming world web thing showed promise but Aziraphale was certain it would be just a passing fad because ink and paper had worked fine for centuries why would they change now? Aziraphale ate, Crowley drank and both tried hard not to think about the feeling of each other’s hands.

Crowley returned Aziraphale to his shop and sped off into Mayfair, back to his flat. Aziraphale had lingered a moment on the sidewalk, watching the Bentley speed away. Crowley knew this, because he had watched in his mirror, when he drove too far for the mirror to return the image clearly Crowley had convinced it otherwise and the image of Aziraphale turning back to the shop came into view. The Bentley pulled roughly off the road into a park and Crowley screamed into his own personal void WHAT THE HEAVEN IS GOING ON? WHY DID I GRAB HIM?   
“To stop him from being hurt. Obviously.” Crowley answered himself out loud.  
OBVIOUSLY? WHY THE BLOODY HEAVEN WOULD I DO THAT?   
“Because...” here he trailed off.  
BECAUSE WHAT? He demanded of his inner voice   
Nothing.  
WELL I’M WAITING!  
“Ngk.” Said Crowley. 

Crowley allowed months to pass, pretending to be out when the phone rang, pretending to not hear Aziraphale’s messages left on his machine, Aziraphale’s invitations to lunch.

Crowley was tending to his plants when the call came. The Angel’s voice filled the flat as the machine recorded it. “Umm hallo Crowley, dear boy. This is me again, uh that is to say Aziraphale. Hello. I’m not sure what is going on, I’m hoping nothing terrible has happened to you or rather itching blessed I suppose. Listen I really would love to see you again, it’s been over a year since our last lunch and well, to be honest, I miss seeing you. I’m going to be at the duck pond today, at 6 with a blanket, some lovely crepes, a few bottles of wine and hopefully you’ll be there too.” The phone disconnected and Crowley looked back at his plants now dripping water all over the floor of his flat. “Oh knock that off.” He told the plant who did their best to stop the water droplets from falling. He looked at his watch, a quarter past 2, good once 6 rolled around and Aziraphale realized he wasn’t there it would be over. He could go back to his peaceful non tormented way of life of tormenting others. 

At 3 Crowley ate a loose meat sandwich, he wasn’t hungry he didn’t even need to eat food but he did it to prove a point that he wouldn’t be eating crepes later. 

At 4 Crowley cleaned his kitchen, there wasn’t much to clean he had banished all the dirt and dust from his flat four decades ago and none had the courage yet to attempt a return. Still he wiped down all the surfaces and scrubbed the floor with a small hand held brush anyway. WOULD SOMEONE GOING TO A DUCK POND IN TWO HOURS HAVE DONE THAT? CERTAINLY NOT! Reassured Crowley.

At 5 he decided to turn in for the night, a bit early perhaps but he didn’t have anywhere else to be today.   
At 5:15 Crowley counted all the squares that made up his ceiling.  
At 5:28 he realized he had counted the half squares along the edge as full squares and set about recounting them properly this time.  
At 5:32 Crowley thought intently about why the word dyslexia wasn’t a palindrome and if one of his fellow demons had already claimed credit for that or if he could take it as one of his.  
At 5:45 Crowley was determined to miss this picnic date with his Angel.  
At 5:46 Crowley realized he had just referred to Aziraphale as “His Angel” and their meetings as “dates”   
At 5:49 Crowley snapped his fingers and was dressed in his best black leather pants, black shirt, jacket, tie and sunglasses and was outside his flat in his Bentley.   
At 5:59 Crowley was running along the path towards the duck pond and towards Aziraphale.  
Time seemed to move quickly at the Duck Pond, too quickly for Crowley’s taste anyway. They ate the crepes, well Aziraphale ate the crepes but Crowley enjoyed watching him. They drank the two bottles of wine and they stretched out on the blanket and stared at the stars.

“Remind me dear boy, which ones were yours?” Aziraphale asked, referring to the before time, before Crowley’s fall.

Crowley scanned the night sky, “see that bit there. The twinkly ones.” Crowley pointed vaguely to the left.

Aziraphale attempted to follow his finger, “Those there?”

Crowley looked at him disgusted, “No! I wouldn’t have had anything to do with those faulty bastards, their shite! Mine are to the left of those. The really good pretty ones!” 

Aziraphale nodded sagely “Oh yes I see now. Much better indeed, truly superior stars.” He hadn’t the faintest idea of which patch of sky he was supposedly referring to or the difference in any of the stars but it made his companion smile and that was good enough. 

Crowley pointed to a section of sky to the west, “See that one, the constellation there?”

Aziraphale looked up at the constellation Leo. “You mean the lion? That one was yours?”

Crowley nodded proudly “Damn right it was. Wanna know a secret?”

Aziraphale blinked at him “Yeah of course.”

“It’s not a lion.”

“It’s not?”

“Nope. It’s a DUCK!” 

This made Aziraphale laugh, “A duck?”

“Yep.” Crowley said seriously as anyone could.

“Huh. The constellation Donald! Hey baby what’s your sign? Donald!” Aziraphale laughed harder and Crowley smiled at the sound of it. 

“We are out of wine.” Crowley said gravely. 

“Oh dear,” Aziraphale said “You know I believe I have a few bottles at the shop, that is if you would like to join me there for a night cap.” 

Crowley didn’t remember walking back to Aziraphale’s shop but he remembered holding the Angel’s hand as they walked, he didn’t even notice the two figures lurking in the alley across the street as Aziraphale unlocked the door.

Aziraphale’s bookshop was only a shop in the loosest of definition. He certainly had shelves upon shelves of books but he rarely, if ever, managed to force himself to part with one to a customer.

Presently the angel and the demon are sitting cozily on the couch in the back room of the shop with two glasses of wine and a bottle on the small table in front of them. Aziraphale looked at Crowley and reached out to remove his sunglasses. Crowley leaned back away from his reach but Aziraphale looked at him pleading. Crowley leaned towards him and Aziraphale carefully pulled the tinted frames from his face and gazed into his eyes. “There now that’s better.” 

“They don’t bother you?” Crowley asked meekly.

“Oh my dear boy no they don’t. I think they’re beautiful.” 

Crowley felt the threat of a tear in his eyes but willed it back in place. He considered sobering up but ultimately decided he couldn’t face this sober and chose to down two more glasses in rapid succession instead. “Um Aziraphale,” he faltered “there’s something I need to tell you.”

Aziraphale looked at him, “What is it dear?”

Crowley swallowed the lump in his throat or attempted to at any rate with no success “I uh, I don’t know how to say this and I’m afraid of how you might, you know, react.”

Aziraphale leaned towards him, “You don’t have to say anything Crowley.”

“Yes I do.”

“No.” The angel patted his hand “you don’t. I know.”

“You do?”

“Yes. It’s obvious.”

“Is it?” He croaked out. 

“Yes and I feel it too.”

Now Crowley was confused, “You feel it too. But it’s not a..” Crowley never finished that sentence because before he could explain Aziraphale’s mouth was on his.

Crowley fought valiantly if only momentarily to resist before his tongue discovered the joy of tasting wine inside the angel’s mouth. Then he began to kiss Aziraphale back, deeply hungrily.   
Aziraphale pushed Crowley back into the corner of the sofa and kissed his neck his fingers sliding up the inside of Crowley’s shirt tracing along his stomach and chest. Aziraphale snapped his fingers and Crowley felt a brief breeze as his clothes miracled themselves, neatly folded onto the nearby writing desk on top of Aziraphale’s equally miraculously folded shirt and pants, their jackets hanging together on the corner hat rack.   
The angel’s flesh was unbelievably warm against his. It was a comfort the demon had never before experienced and whimpered slightly, involuntarily, when the angel shifted and lifted his weight from him. The demon wanted nothing more than to remain pressed together, kissing his angel, his fingers entangled in those blonde curls. Wanted nothing more that was until he felt the tingling sensation of the angel tracing kisses down his chest and stomach. He gasped with surprise and instant pleasure as the angel took his demonhood into his mouth. “Ngk.” Was all Crowley was able to say as the angel’s tongue traced around the head then down the length of his shaft until encircling it once again inside his mouth. Crowley stares down at Aziraphale who chose that moment to look up and lock eyes with him. Crowley stretched out his arm and his fingers brushed those blonde locks. Aziraphale began sucking harder, taking the demon’s full length into his mouth and down his throat, Crowley’s leg spasmed, twitching itself in rhythm to Aziraphale’s mouth until finally as Aziraphale once again twirled his tongue around the shaft from inside his mouth Crowley felt such a rush of emotions he thought he would discorporate.   
Aziraphale raised his head and gently wiped his lower lip. “Yum.” 

Crowley breathed heavily and pulled the angel up on himself, clinging to him, “That was amazing.”

Aziraphale giggled, he couldn’t help it.   
Crowley reached down between them and gripped the angel’s hardened cock and began moving his hand from base to tip. He kissed Aziraphale and then leaned back on the sofa and repositioned himself on the cushion lifting his hips slightly and guided the head of the angel’s penis towards his hole, one slight miracle later the angel slid slowly into Crowley’s well lubricated opening. Crowley stared into the Aziraphale’s eyes, his beautiful blue eyes.   
“I love you.” Crowley whispered.

Aziraphale paused mid thrust. “What my dear?”

“I love you Angel.” 

“Oh my dear boy I have wanted to hear that for so long. I love you too.”

With that Crowley began rolling his hips to match Aziraphale’s thrusts, increasing speed until he felt Aziraphale’s grip tighten on his hips and he thrusted in deeper. The angel closed his eyes and threw his head back in ecstasy as his wings sprung from their hidden dimension and spread wide, glowing as he came inside Crowley.  
After the mess was miracled away the two supernatural beings lay together on the couch under a throw blanket and there they slept a tangle of arms and legs; Aziraphale’s head on his chest Crowley was really truly at peace for the first time in his memory. 

The morning came far too early for Crowley’s liking, an error in the grand design if you asked him. Still morning was here and so was his angel. Crowley kissed Aziraphale’s forehead as he reluctantly slid out from the angel’s embrace.   
Once on his feet Crowley stretched and twisted his body loosening his stiff muscles. He turned back to the sleeping figure on the sofa and smiled, then went to the small kitchenette in the next room to put the kettle on. 

He strolled into the little kitchen area enjoying the sensation of sunlight streaming in from the high windows on his nude body. As he was filling the kettle with water at the sink he felt their presence behind them, he gripped the kettle tightly and tried to sound casual. “Hello Hastur. Hallo Ligur.” He said as he turned off the water and spun to face the pair. 

“Hello Crawley.” Hastur said.

“It’s Crowley.” He responded curtly. “What do you want?” 

“Oh that’s right you changed it to Crowley.” Ligur said.

“Now now Crowley,” said Hastur, “no need to get tetchy. We only came to congratulate you.” 

“Yeah, on your big victory last night. Sure it took a few thousand years more than you thought but you won the bet after all.” Ligur added.

Crowley looked at them with fire and said a prayer to anything that would listen that Aziraphale would stay asleep long enough to get these two out of the door. “Oh right that yeah okay thanks. See you later. Good day. Begone or whatever.”

“Now is that anyway to talk to old friends?”

“We’re not friends.” Crowley growled. 

“Still a bet is a bet and you won it fairly.” Hastur said alarmingly loud.

“Please guys let’s” Crowley didn’t finish the conversation though because from the doorway he heard the last thing he wanted to hear.

“Who are your friends dear and what’s this about a bet?” Aziraphale asked sleepily.

Crowley looked at him, his Angel wrapped up in the throw blanket. “Oh they’re no one and they were just going.”

Hastur feigned outrage at being called no one. “Why we are Crowley’s oldest friends. And as for the bet, well you were the bet.”

Aziraphale looked from Hastur to Crowley, “What’s he talking about dear? What does that mean?”

Crowley desperately shook his head at the question. “Please Angel just forget it. I’ll have us tea in just a tick.”

“Oh come now Crowley, ‘Dear’. Don’t hide the truth now.” Ligur laughed.

“He doesn’t know.” Hastur said with a laugh “the angel really doesn’t know!”

“Know what?” Demanded Aziraphale.

“Please” Begged Crowley “don’t.”

“You were a bet. See Crawley here, sorry Crowley here, way back in the garden made a wager that he could tempt you oh guardian of the eastern gate. And now, a few thousand years later it would appear he has succeeded. Bravo Crowley!” Hastur said, teasing out the words as he clapped his hands slowly, Ligur joined the applause. 

“Get out.” Commanded Aziraphale to the pair of lurkers. They flinched and crept towards the door. 

“See you at work, Crowley.” Hastur said as they vanished into a shadow.

Aziraphale looked at Crowley. “Is it true?”

“Aziraphale let me explain.” Crowley began.

“No!” Aziraphale said “It is a simple yes or no. Was I a bet?”

“No, no, no, no...well” the final word hung in the silent space between them for a moment “Yes. Kinda. But it’s not how you”

Aziraphale’s eyes burned with fire and tears, “I was so stupid.”

“No, I was the” Crowley reached for him but Aziraphale waved a hand at him and Crowley froze in his steps.

“Enough lies! Get out.” Aziraphale said through a heavy weight on his chest.

“Please Angel let me explain.” Crowley begged.

“BE GONE FOUL DEMON FROM MINE PRESENCE!” Aziraphale commanded, power flowing through his words. His wings springing out behind him and unfurling in their full radiant glory.   
The power and force of the angel’s words hit Crowley like an explosion sending him tumbling ass over the tea kettle he had been holding at the time across the shop and out of the door. He came to a rest on the walk space outside the shop just as a group of nuns passed by. Crowley suddenly remembered his nakedness and snapped his fingers and clothes formed around his body. 

Crowley walked to the duck pond, the same route he and Aziraphale had taken the night before, so full of happiness and excitement that he had hardly noticed the distance, but now every step seemed to be through thick mud and took hours to go a short distance. 

He climbed into the Bentley and considered where to go. He had just gained everything and lost it all in the span of eight hours. Where do you go when you have no hope left? The Bentley roared to life and Crowley drove to work.

The escalator didn’t descend into hell so much as sink into it. The human concept of hell had been so exciting with fires, and lakes of lava and little red horned sprites sticking forks into people’s bottoms, had they seen the real thing most of the so called “fire and brimstone preachers” would have had a real struggle to make it sound so frightening. The reality of hell was that it looked like a disused basement where office equipment went when it died. There were uncomfortable chairs all over the place, the type that had multiple springs to poke you when you sit down no matter how you shifted. The windows were covered in an eternal light grey film and the walls were caked in a never ending layer of what could only be described as green crud that was somehow slimy and dry simultaneously. It was one such wall that Crowley was concerned with just now. Hastur and Ligur grimaced as he approached, despite the fun they had on the surface they were not looking forward to having to lick the wall and they wondered if they could somehow find a way out of it when Crowley stopped in front of the two of them. Hastur began to speak but the look Crowley gave him stopped him dead in his tracks. Crowley grabbed the lapels of his own jacket and gave it a shake adjusting it incrementally to hang just perfect on his slender frame. He removed his sunglasses, folded the legs neatly and slipped them into his jacket pocket. Then he cracked his neck first to the left then to right. Took a deep breath, wet his lips and approached the wall. There, ironically next to a dirty white sign that read “Warning Do Not Lick The Walls” Crowley did just that. Twice.   
The legions of hell groaned and grimaced but he did it, then he pointed at Hastur and Ligur. “You two, up there, with me now.” With that he turned and walked away fixing his glasses back to his face.

He strolled out of the building and into the street with the two demons following confusedly behind all the way to his Bentley. Crowley snapped his fingers and the doors of the car opened, “In.” he said.

“Now hold on a minute, who do you think you are?” Hastur said.

Crowley pulled off his glasses and stared Hastur down, “I’m a demon with nothing to lose. I am going to get my angel back and you are going to help or so help me Satan I will drag both of you kicking and screaming into a font of holy water with me. Now get in.” Crowley growled.

“Right.” Hastur answered timidly and followed Ligur into the backseat of the car. 

“So what’s the plan?” Ligur asked once the trio were on their way. 

Crowley shrugged “Don’t really have one.”

Hastur leaned up in the seat, “Answer me this Crowley. Why is this so important? Is just an angel innit?”

Crowley breathed in heavily then his voice softened, “Do you remember when you first fell? That feeling of emptiness, that everything good had been taken from you and left nothing in its place except a cold sick regret?” 

Ligur stared out the window, his expression blank “Yeah.” He answered quietly.

“That’s what I felt again this morning.” 

Hastur sighed. “Just drive.” And none of them spoke again until they pulled up in front of Aziraphale’s bookshop. Crowley got out first and tried to steady his nerves. He looked at his reflection in the window and adjusted his hair. Hastur caught his arm “Hang on a minute.” Ligur jogged up and handed him a fresh bouquet of flowers from the vendor at the corner, the vendor that was now fleeing for his life down the block. Crowley didn’t bother to ask what Ligur had done and accepted the flowers, demons will be demons after all. 

The three turned and walked into the bookshop, or rather they attempted to walk into the bookshop. Instead they walked into an invisible wall surrounding the bookshop. “Blessed Virgin that smarts!” Yelled Ligur. 

Hastur leaned down to examine the doorway, there etched in burning light were angelic symbols, a ward barring demonic forces and consecrating the ground. “Holy ground. Too long in there and we’ll burn up. What now?” Hastur asked Crowley.

“Now?” Crowley answered “Now I guess I burn.” And with that the demon stepped slowly into the bookshop.

Crowley shifted his weight uneasily from foot to foot to relieve the burning sensation the ground was causing. He found Aziraphale sitting at his writing desk, crying. “I’m sorry but we are closed today.” He said choking a bit on the tears.

“I’m not here for a book.” Crowley answered.

Aziraphale raised his head but did not turn around, “Crawley! What are you doing here.” 

Crowley flinched at the use of his old name, “I came to bring you these,” He said as he placed the flowers on the desk next to Aziraphale. “And to explain what happened.”

“Alright then explain.” Aziraphale said to the wall. “Explain how you made a bet for my love and then laughed with your friends about it. Explain how I’m sure they gave you a big promotion in hell for the temptation of an Angel.”

“I lost the bet Aziraphale. Yes there was a bet, yes I tried to tempt you, but I failed! Don’t you get it? I didn’t tempt you, you tempted me. Or blessed me more like. You took a demon, a fallen one, a being hollowed out of love and joy who felt nothing but coldness and hopelessness and you made him feel love. You made him feel hope. You made him warm again.” It was something in Crowley’s voice that caused Aziraphale to turn his head, to look at his old friend and now lover.

“Oh my dear boy!” Aziraphale cried as he looked at him. Smoke poured from the demon as the ward worked it’s blessing against him. In a frantic panic Aziraphale rushed to his side and snapped his fingers breaking the ward around the shop, he helped Crowley to a chair and handed him a cup of scotch that the angel had been previously nursing on the writing desk. As the color returned to Crowley and he stopped smoking Aziraphale kissed him, a decision he instantly regretted as he recoiled at the taste. “Good Lord Crowley what did you eat?”

“He licked the wall of hell!” Hastur called from the backroom doorway.  
“Twice.” Added Ligur.

“What the Devil did you do that for?” Asked Aziraphale.

“I told you, I lost the bet.” Said Crowley downing the scotch. 

“And the wager was licking the wall of hell?” Aziraphale asked in disgusted wonder.

“Yep.” Answered Crowley.

“Twice.” Added Ligur.

“Good Lord, You really must love me.” Said Aziraphale.

Crowley smiled, “I do Angel. I really do.” 

End.


End file.
